Light Bringer
by VirendraLione
Summary: Upon Loki's return to Asgaard, Odin seeks the help of Synneva, an Asgaardian stranded on Midgaard after the destruction of the Bifrost. Better Summary inside. Rating may change.
1. Prologue

_I do not own Loki, Thor, Odin, The avengers or any other marvel character I may use or mention in this fan fiction._

**Avengers/Thor Fanfiction.**

_**Ok…So this is a Loki fan fiction set after the Avengers Assemble film. I have not yet finished Rain Maker, but when I do catch up with that, this fic. will have references to that, but for now it shouldn't be too much of an issue. Just enjoy.**_

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**Light Bringer.**

_**Loki was imprisoned upon his return to Asgaard. Thor stands a daily vigil by his brother's cage, only to leave heartbroken each evening when the God of Mischief elects to remain silent. **_

_**The people of Asgaard cry out for Loki's punishment and Heimdall tells Odin that the people of Midgaard do the same. **_

_**The Allfather seeks the help of Synneva, an Asgaardian who was stranded on Midgaard when the Bifrost was destroyed.**_

**Prologue.**

The mountain had been hollow for millennia, the metallic black stone cut and carved by the will of water and ice. Only a single pedestal of rock remained in the centre, out of reach of the concave walls that stood several metres away from it at any side.

The sound of gushing water floated upwards from the base of the pedestal. The din suggested violent, raging torrents below, too far removed from the light to see, but promising a blind and agonising death to any unfortunate enough to fall.

The funnel of the mountain culminated in a jagged, circular fissure through which light and air could venture.

Overlooking the pedestal stood a platform, naturally hewn by the elements save for the torches that had been secured to the walls bordering the outcrop and the tall, obsidian doors carved there.

The onyx portals grated inwards on the cavern at the bidding of a pair of guards. They stood aside to let the Allfather enter. He was flanked by Thor, whose meaty palm was closed around the upper right arm of a manacled Loki. The metal half-mask secured around Loki's mouth twitched a little as the Trickster God angled his head to look around him.

_Impressive._ He found himself thinking.

Thor led him to the edge of the platform and, at a nod in signal from Odin, brandished a spinning Mjolnir and leapt into the air. The pair appeared a moment later in the centre of the pedestal.

The landing almost knocked the breath from the Trickster God, but he righted himself in enough time to feel Thor's grip loosen on his arm. Loki turned his gaze to the platform, looking upon the Allfather who seemed reluctant to return the glance.

"Come, Thor."

Odin's voice reverberated from the smooth black rock faces surrounding them.

Loki watched as Thor turned, made to walk away and then turned back. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but received only a sad shake of Thor's head as a response.

The golden prince leapt into the air again, returning to a space aside the King of Asgaard on the platform a second or so later.

Loki looked up at the pair and the Allfather met his gaze for what seemed like the first time since his return to the realm. There was anger in his eye, disappointment and shame also.

For a second, guilt swept over Loki, but then his heart hardened at the remembrance of his true parentage.

Odin raised his sceptre and struck it once against the platform at his feet causing a low rumbling sound to echo around the chamber.

Pieces of obsidian stone began to break away from the cavern walls with sickening cracking and crunching sounds, gravitating towards the pedestal and the trapped trickster god.

After a short while, the haematite cage was complete and the growl of the magic subsided.

Loki approached his granite confines and placed a palm against one of the larger struts.

_Is this really necessary? _He sneered inwardly, turning smug emerald eyes to his onlookers.

Without further hesitation he sent a wave of energy through his fingers tips, willing the strut to fall away into the water below. When nothing happened, his brow furrowed.

The God of Mischief returned his gaze to the platform again, just in time to see his captors turn their backs on him only to be replaced by a line of guards.

_Wait! _Loki cried mutely.

The slamming shut of the doors was the only response he received.

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_**I know, shouldn't be starting anything new, but I couldn't help but write this. Hopefully, it will be a cool and enjoyable story. Can't say anything more or else I may spoil it for you. **_


	2. Voluntary Exile

_I still own nothing Thor or Avenger-ish. Boy, I wish I did. Loki would always come out on top if that was the case._

**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter One: Voluntary Exile.**

The apartment she rented was small and generic-looking. Cream coloured paint flaked from the walls in places and damp clung to the ceiling in both the bathroom and the kitchen. Synneva could have dealt with the flaking paint and mildew, no problem, but there was always something that stopped her. There was always that niggling feeling, in the back of her mind, that if she did anything to improve her tiny living space then that would be it and she would be stuck on Midgaard forever.

The Asgaardian was well aware it was little more than superstition keeping her from waving her hand across the affected areas and banishing the imperfections, but she still couldn't bring herself to tempt fate.

In truth, she missed her home, her little villa on the city outskirts. She missed the sight of the palace in the distance, the tranquillity of the surrounding area, the people…her people.

On more than one occasion, she had wondered whether she had been missed by anyone. She had gotten to know the palace quite well in her duties on Asgaard and had spoken with both Odin and Frigga many times. Synneva found it difficult to believe that, even with the sheer multitude of his subjects, the Allfather would forget about her. After all, he had personally condoned her request to visit the realm of Midgaard and only after a lengthy discussion, had he given her permission.

Odin had also personally escorted her to the Bifrost and she had bid both him and Heimdall a fond farewell.

The gatekeeper had told her he would watch for her and that she need only call his name if she wished to return ahead of schedule.

It sent a shiver down Synneva's spine to think on Heimdall's last words to her. She had tried to call him, but had received no reply. After her incessant attempts at reaching the gatekeeper had all gone unanswered, she had resigned herself to the fact that something horrible must have happened in Asgaard.

A dozen terrible possibilities flooded her mind and the worst thing about the situation was that she was helpless to do anything.

After a while, Synneva realised that mourning her home was futile. Especially, when she didn't possess all the facts.

So, she decided to assimilate. She rented an apartment, filled it with the things a human might expect to see if they entered and did her best to blend in. She had learned, early on, that her clothing was out-of-sorts with that of the locals and had had to source other attire so as not to attract unwanted attention.

Synneva had even made friends with some of the other residents of the building. Her favourite person to talk to was an elderly lady named Gwendoline East, who lived down the hall from her. Gwendoline, was a sickly sweet woman with a penchant for baking cakes and recounting her life story. Synneva had learned a lot about the history of Midgaard merely from listening to Gwendoline.

When she wasn't talking to Mrs. East or studying the behaviour of the other residents in the apartment building, Synneva ploughed through the internet and newspapers for anything that might explain why she had been stranded.

She had unearthed a news story about a small town in New Mexico having nearly been destroyed by a tornado or, as the reporter put it, 'A devastating Act of God.'

Needless to say, this peaked Synneva's interest and she had gone to investigate.

The asgaardian had not stayed longer than a night, gathering information made difficult by the humans' reluctance to talk about the matter, not to mention, the constant presence of a large number of men and women in smart black suits milling around the research base of a woman whose name she learned was Jane Foster.

The suits had eyed her suspiciously when she had gotten too close to the building and, as a result, Synneva elected it was a dead end in her investigation and had left the town of Puerte Antigua, realising she really had no desire to be abducted and experimented on for the rest of her life (her recent acquisition of the internet had instilled in her the knowledge that that was what humans did to those who came from elsewhere in the universe.).

The following months had passed without event.

It was quite by accident that she found out about a research facility collapsing in on itself and sinking into the ground, though any news related to the how and why was unhelpfully vague.

By the time Synneva caught on to the invasion of so-called 'aliens' in New York, it had been too late to get to the city before the crisis had ended. She felt compelled to visit though, arriving in the aftermath as the city was rebuilding. It was easier to blend in in New York and acting like a tourist meant that she could gather information easily from the inhabitants, clearly excited about the whole event and eager to offer their own opinions on the matter of aliens.

A glimmer of hope came in the peppering of a particular photograph across all forms of the media. Amongst the images of various members of a group naming themselves the Avengers, settled a portrait photograph of a familiar looking blonde-haired, blue-eyed man.

Synneva didn't need to conduct any research to confirm the blonde man was Thor, but continued reading also found that the invasion had had something to do with a villain named Loki, whom the humans seemed to know little about.

This revelation sent a shock of betrayal and despair through the asgaardian's form. They had had the means to come to Midgaard and return home again, but had left her behind. She wouldn't have expected Thor to ignore the promise of a battle just to come and look for her - he was a warrior, after all - but time had passed since the chaos and, still, no one had come for her.

With a heavy heart, Synneva had returned to her apartment and contemplated the reality of her being stuck on Midgaard for the rest of her life.

The reality of it all was, by no means, perfect and, truthfully, Synneva was tired of feeling trapped. She missed her home and the freedom that came with being amongst her own people on Asgaard, no longer having to hide or be wary of how she acted or what she said.

With a resigned sigh, Synneva pushed the door to her apartment closed and dropped the satchel bag from her shoulder, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. She continued through into the kitchen area, making no move to stow the bag somewhere safe or out of the way.

A vague wave of her hand bid the lights flicker into life and she stood beneath the archway leading to the kitchen, hands on hips and another sigh escaping her lips. Subconsciously, her gaze found the damp patch on the ceiling above her refrigerator. With a shake of her head, Synneva outstretched a palm in the direction of the stain. It took little effort to remove the pock-marking of black mould amidst the rings of a sepia hue.

Once content with the result, the stranded asgaardian made her way through to the bathroom, figuring that she may as well make the best of the situation.

After all, it was likely that she would be living in the apartment for a long while yet.

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**_There you go, Chapter One. Hope you are enjoying it so far. Am really excited about writing this one so hopefully, updates shouldn't take too long. _**

**_Thanks for reading!_**


	3. Missed

_I dislike the fact I do not own Thor, The Avengers or any of the characters relating to those two fandoms I may use or mention in this fan fiction. I also dislike having to write disclaimers…_

_**Well, I did say I was excited about this fic. and here is another chapter! I'm hoping that you find Synneva an interesting character, she'll steadily be revealing more of her quirks as the story goes on so I hope you are enjoying this so far. **_

_**Thanks for reading, but seriously guys I need more reviews (I only have one so far. :( ) Just kidding, as long as you enjoy reading it I don't mind. Reviews are always nice though...**_

**_God, I'm rambling now. Time for bed me thinks._**

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Two: Missed.**

A rapping at the door awoke Synneva with a start. Sitting up in her bed, she gave a yawn, peeled back the covers and beckoned the bedside lamp turn on with a pointed look.

Narrowed eyes found the bedroom door as further knocking ensued on the portal in her wanting hallway. With another yawn and wiping the sleep away from her eyes, she swung her legs from the bed and headed for the front door.

Synneva was careful to keep her footsteps soft and inaudible. She approached the door in silence and leant an ear against the wood.

"Err…sorry, man…looks like she's not in…"

"Where else could she be?"

Synneva's heart skipped a beat.

The first voice was the lethargic slur of Roger Higgins, a ground floor resident in the building, but the second voice…

The second voice had been something else altogether…

It had felt like forever since she had last heard it. Deep and smooth, powerful and noble. A voice whose owner was bound by honour and considered himself a guardian. A watchful eye. A gatekeeper.

Almost without thinking Synneva gripped the door handle and swung it open.

Roger tumbled into her arms at the sudden absence of the portal, but Synneva's focus was beyond him. Her eyes, instead, fell upon the titanic, dark-skinned figured, bedecked in golden armour and sporting eyes of the same hue. A strange glass cylinder, containing a pulsing blue cube, swung at his side in his right fist.

"Heimdall." The stranded Asgaardian breathed, her face almost unable to withstand the rapidly widening smile.

The gatekeeper regarded her with a perplexed gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"Synneva?" He ventured, the question seeming foreign; a genuine miscomprehension in a usually certain being.

Synneva's own brow furrowed and she pushed Roger away from her gently, making sure he was situated by the wall should he fall again. Looking down at her clothes, she suddenly realised what Heimdall was having trouble with. She supposed the gatekeeper would have remembered her differently; last time he had seen her she had been wearing her own armour as opposed to the grey tracksuit bottoms and oversized Minnie Mouse t-shirt she was wearing at that moment.

The asgaardian shot him a look that said to follow her lead and then turned her focus to Roger who seemed to be having a similar debate on what was considered fashionable.

Thinking quickly, Synneva cleared her throat and gripped Heimdall's nearest elbow, leading him into the apartment.

"Thank you for showing my friend here the way, Roger…and sorry if he gave you a scare."

Roger gave a nod, pushing himself away from the wall and absent-mindedly scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, he did an' all. Waking me up…middle of the night…dressed like that!" The hand at his head gestured to Heimdall and Roger gave a nervous laugh.

Synneva gave an understanding nod and rolled her eyes.

"I know; he's a bit of a Dungeons and Dragons nut, this one. We had actually planned a game tonight. Guess I forgot."

Roger cocked a crooked smile, his head bobbing lazily.

"Oh right…right…I played a bit of D & D when I was younger…I could join you if you need an extra player…"

Synneva shook her head and treated Roger to a polite a smile as she could muster. She leant on the edge of the door.

"Nice of you to offer, Rodge…But, its actually more of a…err…private game."

The asgaardian gave a mock pout and narrowed her eyes, imploring the half-wit human to understand.

The man in the hallway gave another half-hearted nod and forced a yawn.

"Oh right…better leave you to it then, I suppose. See you around, Sy."

Synneva watched with relief as the smaller man turned to walk away.

"Good night, Roger." She called after him, before closing the door and releasing a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She took a second to comprehend the situation, leaning on the door and staring awe-struck at the gatekeeper in her living room.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me." Synneva stated finally, pushing away from the wood of the door and brushing back the fringe of her jet hair with her right hand.

Heimdall shook his head slowly and dutifully.

"Never…I watched over you; just as I promised I would. I heard you call for me, but I could not reach you; the Bifrost…It was destroyed."

"I figured something had happened. Though, I imagined worse…I'm glad that's all it was." Synneva paused for a thoughtful moment, folding her arms across her chest.

"What happened, Heimdall?"

The gatekeeper raised his eyebrows and sadness crept into his golden orbs.

"That is a long story, Synneva…and one which the Allfather will gladly impart to you upon your return to Asgaard."

Synneva nodded in understanding.

"Right. Yes. Of course. Just give me a sec to change and pack." With this, the stranded asgaardian made for the direction of her bedroom. She turned back when Heimdall's voice floated after her.

"A sec?" he verified.

Synneva grimaced.

"God, sorry Heimdall…what I mean to say is I will not be long. I merely have to gather the items I wish to take with me."

She shot a fleeting glance to her makeshift pyjamas.

"And change…I don't want to meet the Allfather looking like this!"

With a spritely smile, Synneva vanished from sight.

Upon entering her room, she realised that the polite thing to do would have been to offer Heimdall something to drink and had half a mind to retrace her steps and do so. Almost as soon as she had thought this, though, she had dismissed the idea; it was unlikely she would have anything that would seem appealing to the gatekeeper, after all.

It had taken longer than expected to locate the appropriate attire, Synneva realised with a prick of shame. She knew in her heart that Heimdall would never dishonour a promise and, also, that Odin would never forget about one of his subjects. She felt guilty for thinking anything else of them.

Once dressed, Synneva set to work on her hair, plaiting it and winding it around a single point. She secured it there in much the same way as she had on the day she had first set foot on Midgaard. She added a spritz of hairspray, out of habit, and then stood in front of the mirror to survey her attire.

Shamefully, Synneva realised her armour was a little tarnished, the leather did not possess the shame sheen as it once had and nor did the metal scale-like embellishments gleam as they should. Running a palm along the embellishments on her breastplate, Synneva also noted a grey tinge to the shirt that should have glistened white beneath it.

The dunn coloured trousers she wore tucked in to slightly scuffed, brown leather boots, probably told the least of the neglect her attired had suffered.

With a shake of her head, the asgaardian realised there was little she could do about it now and figured it would have to do.

Seeking out a duffle bag, Synneva dug around in drawers and rifled through her wardrobe. Within a few minutes, the bag was zipped up with only a few items remaining on the bedspread.

Ceremoniously, Synneva reached for a thick leather strap with a scabbard attached. She fastened this around her waist and then set the sheath at the most comfortable position at her left hip. Her short sword resisted a little as she fed it into its sheath; further evidence of mistreatment, Synneva realised with a grimace.

An ornate silver dagger was concealed in the top of her right boot and she secured an intricately forged white gold circlet atop her brow.

Synneva emerged from the bedroom, shot Heimdall a short, sweet smile as an excuse and headed for the kitchen. Saying nothing, she crossed to the fridge.

Synneva swept a few miscellaneous packets into the duffel bag and then set about raiding the cupboards.

When she had finally finished, the asgaardian returned to the living room, the duffle swung over her right shoulder.

She was greeted by a patient, yet expectant gatekeeper.

"I'm ready now." Synneva informed with a sheepish smile and feeling like she had taken far too long to get ready.

Heimdall merely nodded and strode across to the front door. He opened it and passed through. The soon-not-to-be-stranded Asgaardian followed, realising what the gatekeeper was doing, but paused at the door jamb.

A small, sad smile crossed her lips and she inwardly wondered whether she would miss her Midgaard home at all when she was back on Asgaard.

Surveying the living space for one last time, Synneva swung the portal closed and walked briskly down the corridor after the gatekeeper.

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**_Synneva's finally going home, but she's taken an awful lot of earth stuff with her...what did she take, I wonder...Most of this was written on a whim including Roger and the raiding the fridge so god knows where that came from. I am also tired and should have been in bed ages ago, but I stayed up to write this. Aaaw aren't I nice?_**

**_Anyway, enjoy!_**


	4. History Of Violence

_Thor and the Avengers remain the property of people other than myself and so do any character from those two fandoms that I may use or mention in this here fan fiction…_

_**So thanks to those of you who are reading this. Here be the next (hopefully eagerly awaited) chapter. I just hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. **  
_

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Three: A History Of Violence. **

Synneva blanched as she felt her knees connect with the unrelenting ground beneath her with a sickening crack. A sturdy but gentle hand curled itself around her left upper arm and lifted her slowly upwards to stand.

She gave a grateful nod as Heimdall came into view and bent at the waist to brush any dirt from her knees. She found there was little and upon looking up she found why. She was standing in the palace courtyard before the steps leading to the throne room. It was dusk, judging by the amber aura around them and the slight glimmer to the palace walls.

A few guards regarded her and Heimdall with dubious expressions, but seemed content to return to their watch after no doubt recognising the gatekeeper.

Synneva placed a gentle hand atop Heimdall's and immediately felt him release her from his grasp.

"You could have warned me!" She laughed, stooping to pick up her duffel bag which had obviously dropped from her shoulder with the fall and ended up at her feet.

"Warned you?" Heimdall pressed.

Synneva shook her head, "Well…you could have told me what it felt like to travel using _that_!"

She gestured to the glass cylinder in mock anger, "Seriously, that thing is way worse than the Bifrost…Portability: One. Comfort: a big fat zero!"

Synneva looked up at Heimdall and was met with a look of sincere confusion from the gatekeeper. A glimmer of sympathy pinpricked his searching gaze and Synneva ran through her last sentence.

"Sorry…" She remitted, her own gaze finding the floor, "I did it again, didn't I? Guess I've spent too long with the Midgaardians..."

Finishing with a short, nervous laugh, Synneva looked up again to glean a reaction. To her relief, Heimdall chuckled and gave a nod, gesturing that they should probably make a move.

Synneva followed after him as he made his way up the steps towards the palace.

The pair emerged through the gargantuan archway and found Odin and Frigga to be waiting for them. Heimdall stopped by the archway, standing as a dutiful sentinel to one side. Synneva continued forth and was, all at once, accosted by the gathered royalty.

The Allfather was the first to greet her, taking her hand in his and shaking it before pulling her into a short embrace.

"Synneva, it is a glorious thing to have you back with us!" He pulled away and released her hand.

"It truly is good to be back, Allfather. I have missed Asgaard immensely in my absence."

Frigga approached her next, placed both hands on her shoulders and drew her inwards placing a soft kiss on each cheek. Synneva returned the gesture simultaneously.

"You look well, my child. It seems Midgaard did not disagree with you as much as you claim." Frigga offered a sweet, motherly smile crossing her countenance.

Synneva did her best to return the expression, but did not feel she could personify the unique tenderness and caring that Asgaard's Queen was known for.

"On the contrary, your highness; I have not spent my time on Midgaard idly. I have learned a lot about its people and look forward to sharing my findings with you. The only things to suffer from my venture were my training and my armour."

Synneva finished with a passing gesture to her attire, hoping that the King and Queen before her would excuse her appearance for such a reason. She was glad when they both nodded understandingly.

There was a brief period of silence, during which both Odin and Frigga's expressions darkened. Synneva was about to ask why when the Allfather broke the silence.

"I am certain, having been on Midgaard at the time, that you are not ignorant of recent events there?"

"I am aware of them. I am also aware that Thor and Loki were involved, though I know not how." Synneva confirmed, "Heimdall mentioned the destruction of the Bifrost, also. He assured me that you would give me the 411 on the matter."

The Allfather raised an eyebrow. Frigga's brow furrowed. Synneva grimaced.

"Forgive me…" She began, searching for the right words before continuing, "I mean to say; Heimdall told me that you would be able to impart the exact details regarding the events."

Odin nodded and then heaved a burdened sigh.

* * *

Heimdall had not been lying when he had warned it was a long story, Synneva realised. Darkness had fallen by the time Odin had finished recounting it for her.

The trio had retired to the banquet hall at Frigga's suggestion. Synneva had seated herself opposite the rulers of the Realm Eternal and thought it strange that neither of them sought their usual places at the head of the table.

Frigga had excused herself as Odin began to tell of Loki's part in the crisis in New York. The queen had said she was tired, but Synneva didn't miss the pain and betrayal behind her smile, nor the self-doubt and shame in her eyes.

When the Allfather had finished, Synneva took a moment to let the tale sink in. She had no reason to doubt Odin, but she was glad to find that the story fitted in with the information she had uncovered back on Midgaard.

"And you believe there is hope for Loki still?" Synneva braved tentatively, watching as Odin heaved a deep breath and let his eye find the table top.

"I want to believe, but I cannot be certain…Frigga believes so and Thor, more so than anyone."

A thought crossed Synneva's mind.

"Where is Thor? I trust he made it back from Midgaard well?"

Relief washed over her as she watched the Allfather give a nod. It had not occurred to her that Thor may have been injured in the battle in New York and, having just felt the effects of Asgaard's new method of transport for herself, it would not have surprised her to learn of any adverse effects an injured party may incur from it.

"He stands vigilant by Loki's prison. I believe he hopes to reach him somehow, to help him to atone for his actions."

"Has it worked? Has Loki said anything since his imprisonment?"

The Allfather gave a slow, solemn shake of his head.

"I see."

Odin inhaled suddenly, stood from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back, turning away from Synneva to face the awning at the far end of the room.

"Heimdall informs me that the people of Midgaard cry out for Loki's punishment. Some even cry for death. Here on Asgaard, many others do the same."

Synneva remained silent, feeling it best to wait patiently for the Allfather to continue.

"I do not wish for Loki's execution. It was my fault he did what he did; his actions are as much my own as his."

An uneasy feeling settled itself in the pit of Synneva's stomach. She was unsure what reaction was expected of her at Odin's last statement, but she felt herself agreeing with it.

From what the Allfather had said of Loki's true parentage and how he had learned of it, she realised she could not place the blame solely with Loki. She did not condone his actions, by any means, but hers had always been a philosophy based on empathy and the trickster god seemed worthy of that much, at least.

She turned her gaze upwards to find Odin studying her, watching for a reaction. Synneva elected to remain silent.

"I have something to ask of you, Synneva, and you must forgive me for doing so…"

"Command of me what you will, Allfather."

A smile of gratitude crossed the king of Asgaard's lips.

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**_I think Loki shall meet Synneva in the next chapter and Thor will make an appearance as well. I hope you are liking this so far. I'll probably be writing tonight so keep an eye out for the next instalment! Thanks for reading! _**

**_~~~Vi~~~_**


	5. Not So Solitary

_Do not believe anyone if they tell you I own Thor, The Avengers or any characters I may use or mention in this particular story. They lied to you; I own nothing save for the plot and my OCs._

_**Ok so this is the third chapter I've written in two days, I believe. But, like I said earlier, this is a fun one to write so it's not surprising. **  
_

_**Thanks to those of you who have favourited/alerted this story or reviewed it. You guys do keep me writing, so thank you so very much. Enjoy this chapter, please.**_

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Four: Not So Solitary.**

Synneva had been granted leave of the palace at a late hour and had arrived at her home just after the middle of the night. She had not slept, choosing instead to attend the issue of her armour and think on the Allfather's request.

She would do what he asked of her, she was certain. Honour and duty bound her so, but she had asked Odin to visit Loki first, before making any final decision.

Synneva had made the Allfather believe her request was borne of concern for her own safety and that she wished to determine how much of a threat the trickster god actually posed. In truth, it was curiosity and disbelief that heralded her request.

She had known the palace well, once, and had met Loki in the past, albeit briefly.

She could see the uncertainty in people as they passed by him in the corridors, but she would never have thought him capable of the actions that resulted in his recent incarceration. If anything, she had felt a certain kinship towards the prince.

It was no secret that Loki had little interest in combat and had, instead, turned his hand to magic, mastering spells and incantations with ease and a natural aptitude possessed by none other.

Synneva also favoured magic over weaponry when all others seemed only to relish in the feel of cold steel beneath their grasp. She had spoken with the God of Mischief only once before on the matter, a brief conversation ended suddenly as she was bidden to fulfil other duties. Their paths had not crossed since and she even doubted he would remember her. A fact that would give her sufficient leverage in her acceptance of Odin's request.

* * *

Synneva found Thor waiting for her at the entrance to the cavern. She dismounted her horse, handing the reigns to a guard and stepped over to the God of Thunder.

"It is good to see you again, Thor." Synneva offered, letting him fold her into an embrace that mimicked his father's only the day before.

"And you, my lady. My father informs me that you are able to help Loki."

Synneva grimaced. There was no question there; it was a statement, one filled with hope and desperation. Thor saw her as the last resort, beyond which there was no hope for his brother.

She held her hands up in surrender and shook her head, fixing the golden prince with imploring eyes.

"Thor, I will do what I can for your brother, but I cannot promise I will be able to do anything worthwhile. I promise only that I will do my utmost to help him…For your family's sake and his own." She finished with a placating hand on Thor's shoulder.

The thunder god nodded and desperate, grateful eyes met hers.

"That is all I ask."

"Thank you."

Silence fell around them as Synneva stepped away from Thor and took a step or two towards the imposing obsidian gateway. Inwardly, she marvelled at the workmanship; it was evident each door had been forged with great care. Runes and symbols littered the metallic jet surface and Synneva found herself drawn towards the left most door. Ignorant of Thor's attention to her, she slowly outstretched a palm, letting it hover but an inch from the haematite façade.

An unnamed energy hummed at her fingertips. She released a breath and closed her eyes in appreciation. For moments, she stood in silence, reading the magic woven through the granite. It was powerful, a barrier, a confine, but it was specific also. This cage had been forged for a purpose. Forged for a particular threat.

With a heavy heart, Synneva shrunk away at the realisation.

"Synneva?" ventured a bewildered thunder god, "Is anything the matter?"

Stealing one last glance at the doors, Synneva shook her head, "No, everything is fine."

"Good. Shall we enter, then?"

The golden prince made for the doors, beckoning the guards to open them for him.

"Wait." Synneva started. She waited for Thor to turn to her, before continuing, "I believe it would be best if I enter alone."

The prince's brow creased, but he received no further explanation.

"Very well. If you are certain that would be best."

"I am certain. I shall call for you if I require assistance."

Thor gave a permitting nod and signalled for the guards to continue in their efforts to open the portal. The prince watched with a heart full of hope as Synneva entered the void beyond the obsidian gates.

* * *

Loki did not stir as the familiar grating of stone on stone heralded a new arrival to the cavern. He remained on his back, looking upwards through the uneven gaps afforded by the onyx struts above him. Judging by the amount of light streaming in from the fissure high above, Loki estimated it was about mid-morning. Not yet late enough for food and that could mean only one thing; Thor's visit.

The trickster god closed his eyes for a second, willing the silence to last an eternity. He didn't know how many more of the thunder god's visits he could take. He had lost count of the number of lectures he had received. Lost count of the number of times Thor had simply fallen to his knees and begged Loki to let him help him.

The god of mischief knew that Thor wanted him to speak and he was aware Loki was capable of doing so, despite the muzzle he wore.

At first, Loki had remained silent through spite, but now he said nothing for want of driving the simple creature from his presence. Eventually, it worked; every evening, Thor would leave disheartened and Loki could tell he was slowly breaking him. Thor was leaving him earlier and earlier as the days went by and the trickster god longed for the day on which he would simply fail to visit. After all, what was the point of solitary confinement if you couldn't be alone with your thoughts?

Loki's brow furrowed as nothing but silence rang around him. Usually, the god of thunder had started his beseeching monologue by now. He angled his head to look upon the platform. He could see only the familiar outline of the sentinels lining the edge of the platform. He shifted his weight and manoeuvred into a seated position.

A small pebble skittered along the ground behind him before rolling over the edge and finding the torrents below with a barely audible, yet satisfying plop.

Loki twisted to look over his shoulder. Narrowed emerald eyes beheld a female figure standing with her back to him. She leant forwards a little, regarding the water at the pedestal's base with such intensity it was as if she were searching for the fallen pebble.

The trickster god rose to his feet with careful, calculated actions. It was only then, did the woman turn to him.

For a long while, each studied the other intently.

Loki could tell the woman was about his age. Shorter than himself, but then again, many were. The stranger's straight raven coloured hair reached past her shoulders and came to a halt just above her waistline. Her attire was simple; a plain white dress whose hem touched the floor, the long sleeves flaring slightly above thin pallid wrists.

Loki lingered a little as he looked upon the woman's face. Pale skin canvassed discreet yet elegant cheekbones and was punctuated with a single mole beneath the girl's left eye. Her eyes themselves were blue, but of an uncommon hue, darker than most. Certainly darker that those of Thor, Loki remarked inwardly with a stifled grimace.

Loki's study of the girl completed with the circlet she wore. It was ornate; a single band probably constructed from silver or white gold, an inch or so in width, adorned with intricately detailed ivy leaves in the same metal.

The trickster god found the stranger's eyes again, narrowing his own in scrutiny. She, in turn, regarded him with an impartial gaze.

Loki felt frustration rise in his cheeks as her expression gave nothing away. He gleaned wisdom in her orbs, but nothing else. There was no pain or anger, happiness or hope. Her emotions were unreadable and this annoyed the trickster god.

_Have you come to gloat? Come to lord your freedom over me? _He spat silently.

_Of course not, Loki. Why would you think that? _Came an unexpected reply.

The prisoner watched as the woman gave a knowing smile and turned to the side, moving forward a few steps.

Subconsciously, he followed her.

_What is your intention, then? _Loki hissed, trying his hardest to suppress his astonishment. He would think on the woman's abilities later when she had gone. He would figure it out and then use it to his advantage should she visit again.

The stranger remained silent, but continued pacing. Loki mimicked her actions, suddenly uncertain of this strange woman and not wishing to let her out of his sight.

_Who are you?_ The trickster god growled when he received no response to his last question.

The woman blinked slowly and she released a small breath that could almost have been a self-satisfied laugh.

_You'll find out soon enough. Good bye, Loki. _

The prisoner felt his eyebrows knit together in shock and bewilderment as the stranger gave a nod in parting and then vanished from sight completely.

A shiver ran down Loki's spine. He suddenly felt exposed. It was the uncertainty that unnerved him. Was this stranger friend or foe? Ally or enemy? If she were an ally, why hadn't she freed him? If she were an enemy, why hadn't she teased or tested him? And how was it that she commanded such magic so as to sneak up on him unawares and vanish as quickly as she had appeared?

Left alone with his thoughts, Loki began to speculate on who this woman was. He wondered if Thor might know and paced his wanting enclosure in anticipation of the thunder god's visit.

Nightfall came and food was brought to him by a guard, but still there was no sign of Thor.

Eventually, Loki surrendered and uncertainty settled in the pit of his stomach. He had never expected anyone other than Thor to visit him. Likewise, he had never really expected Thor to neglect what had become his daily ritual.

Something was changing and Loki wasn't sure it would change for the better.

* * *

**_There you go. I hope you liked it. I had fun writing this chapter and penning Loki's uncertainty. He knows something is about to happen and, boy, is it? Anyway, watch this space for more chapter soon!_**


	6. All Too Familiar

_Still Thor, The Avengers and any characters I may use or mention from them in this here fan fiction remain the property of other people. Consider yourself disclaimed._

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am having lots of fun with this fic. and am going to try to squeeze out another chapter tonight; Aren't you the lucky ones?**__  
_

* * *

**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Five: All Too Familiar.**

Synneva emerged from the prison to find an anxious thunder god awaiting her. She watched bewilderment settle on his countenance as she requested the guards close the gateway behind her.

"What happened? Did Loki speak with you?" Thor interrogated.

Synneva met his questions with a barely-there smile in self-satisfaction.

"Sort of." she replied, not having to look at Thor to know the presence of a bewildered frown. Instead, she set her sights on her horse and crossed to the guard she had secured him with. Taking the reigns from the sentinel, she mounted her steed and turned to face the perplexed prince before her.

"I need to speak with your father, Thor, and I must request that you accompany me."

The thunder god twisted to look upon the portal behind him briefly, knowing now why Synneva had requested the entrance be sealed.

"But, my brother…" He began, gazing up at the woman, with eyes full of disappointment.

"I understand your sentiment, but, if you want me to help Loki, you are going to have to trust my judgement." Synneva coaxed.

She watched with satisfaction at the thunder god's solemn yet, understanding nod.

* * *

Loki had awoken to the sound of a multitude of determined footsteps echoing through the chamber. He rose to his feet unhurriedly, not wishing to give the newcomers the satisfaction of having taken him by surprise.

He had not expected a visit at this hour and he was ashamed to say he had been asleep when they came for him. He should have been ready, he should not have slept. The appearance of the strange woman earlier that day had set him on edge. Then the absence of Thor had unnerved him more so.

The trickster god had felt it in his bones; the stranger had brought change with her. She had signalled a disturbance in what had become his equilibrium.

Angling his head upwards, Loki beheld the outcrop. Even in the dim light afforded him, he could still distinguish the forms of Thor and the Allfather.

Loki waited with eyes narrowed, breath baited and teeth gritted in anticipation.

A familiar metallic clang rang out against the cavern walls, followed by a single, heart-stopping crack, which seemed to come from behind him. He fought back a wince at the sound.

A low rumbling ensued as the trickster god's cell crumbled away, piece by piece, into the rapids below.

The next few moments passed much as they had on the day Loki was imprisoned, with Thor being the one to remove him from the island of stone and place him on the outcrop before an assembly of asgaardians. The thunder god took a place to the right of the king of Asgaard.

Silence hung thick in the air as Loki righted himself before the Allfather. The god of mischief found himself turning away from Odin's dutiful and resolved gaze and pivoted slowly on his heel to survey the others gathered on the platform. He took in the form of Frigga, looking on with eyes damp from tears. An uneasy feeling overcame Loki, wondering what the Allfather had decided as his punishment to make her cry so. Raising an eyebrow, he continued his scrutiny of the group, noticing Heimdall brandishing the all too familiar transportation device with the Tessaract pulsing at its centre. The temptation was almost too delicious and, for a moment, Loki found himself formulating a plan to claim the device for his own. However, upon completion of his survey, the trickster god thought better of it, noting the presence of nearly an entire company of guards.

_No. _He decided, turning his gaze back to Odin. _Let us see how this unfolds, first. _

Then, as if on cue, the Allfather spoke.

"Loki." He began, pausing for a moment as the god of mischief raised his eyebrows in mock uncertainty and pointed to his chest as if to say 'Who? Me?'.

Odin continued, seemingly unabashed.

"Your actions, both on Midgaard and here on Asgaard, have wrought misfortune and chaos. You have been responsible for the deaths of numerous innocent people. People who could not have hoped to protect themselves against you. You have exercises unspeakable cruelty chasing a foolish dream. You have betrayed the love of your family…"

A flash of rage consumed seething emerald eyes.

"And, as such, you are unworthy of this realm."

Fragments of a similar scene flashed through the trickster god's mind. The Bifrost, Thor, Odin and a banishment, subsequent of a foolish venture into Jotunheim. Loki rolled his eyes, knowing what was to follow.

"I hereby strip you of your powers-"

Anger and impulse had tainted the Allfather's words before. Resignation did so now. The trickster god distantly wondered why, before he found his eyes widening involutarily at Odin's outstretched hand.

A slow burn spread through Loki's frame, steadily growing in intensity and ferocity. It forced him to the ground. He could feel tears at his eyes and he struggled for breath beneath the muzzle he still wore. He half-registered the whimper of a woman nearby and assumed it had come from Frigga. Self-pity claimed him and he inwardly chided himself for bothering to read so many books and learn so much magic.

The attack relented after what seemed like an age and the searing pain passed. Loki made a half-hearted attempt at wiping away the tears at his eyes, but remained on the ground for a further moment. He drew in a succession of ragged breaths, suddenly wishing for the use of his mouth, before struggling into a kneeling position.

Loki recognised the feeling almost instantly. It was weakness. He was no stranger to it; years of living in Thor's shadow had seen him become well acquainted with the sensation.

"In the name of my father…"

Heimdall marched dutifully towards the god of mischief, bidding him stand with a heavy-handed grip on his nearest arm and a rough upwards tug. Loki swayed a little, wondering if he would be able to remain standing for much longer.

"…And his father before…"

Heimdall forced one of the cylinder's handles into Loki's palm, taking the other firmly in his own.

"…I, Odin Allfather, cast you out."

Loki bid heavy eyelids remain open and he cast one last glance around the chamber. Thor had moved to Frigga's side, letting her lean into his shoulder. Loki read twin expressions of hope and desperation in their eyes.

There was a sudden wrenching sensation from the opposite end of the cylinder and Loki tightened his grip on the bar beneath his palm, lest he fall to his knees again.

Then, his world exploded into a jagged spectrum of light.

* * *

_**There you have it; chapter number five. The next chapter is where it starts to get very interesting...I have a few choice ideas for the upcoming installments...**_


	7. Guiding Light

_I do not own Thor, The Avengers or any of the character from either one I may use or mention in this fan fiction._

_** I am getting especially motivated to write for this fic as the interest has grown since the last chapter. Thanks go to all of you who reviewed, story alerted or favourited this story. so Thanks and thanks again, good to know there are people interested in this. **  
_

_**I was having an argument with a friend about who's the better character, Thor or Loki, (No prizes for guessing who I think is better) and he thinks thor is. I'm hoping I can prove him wrong with this fanfic, so I could use all the reviews, alerts and favourites you are willing to dish out just so I can win. Any help, greatly appreciated. :) **_

_**Anyway her is the next chapter, enjoy!**_

* * *

**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Six: Guiding Light.**

Loki felt his hand loosen on the cylinder as the world around him solidified and he could not help but fall to his hands and knees. His nostrils flared as he tried to reclaim the breath that had been knocked from him by the landing.

The journey had numbed him, or so it seemed, and it took a few seconds for the sensation of the ground beneath him to fully sink in. He felt a cold dampness under his knees and the bite of ice below his palms. Sitting back on his haunches, Loki surveyed his surroundings. He gathered little through blurred vision, gleaning only a landscape blanched through snowfall.

The creaking of footsteps beside him bid him turn his gaze to the right and he witnessed Heimdall walk forth towards a shadowy figure Loki could not yet make out.

"Are you certain you will keep well in such company?" The gatekeeper asked, venom in his voice as he shot a sideways glance at the fallen prince.

A short laugh that was both dismissive and reassuring ensued.

"Of course, Heimdall. Do not worry yourself. All will be well."

Loki's stomach lurched. The voice was female and the uneasiness in his stomach warned it was the woman who had visited him in his cage.

"Very well. I will be watching over you. As before, you need only call if you need assistance."

"Try not to let me get stranded this time, eh?"

Heimdall chuckled.

Loki watched as the fuzzy mass of gold that was Heimdall drew the smaller, yet equally blurred, female into a short embrace. He then took a few steps away from her and twisted the capsule in his hands.

Within a second, and a thousand daggers of blue and white light, Heimdall was gone.

Loki fought to his feet and stood for a moment, waiting for his vision to clear so he could assess his situation better. He tried to find something to focus on, but found only the woman in contrast with his snow wrapt surroundings.

She bent to her left and grasped at a dark shape at her feet, hoisting it to her shoulder with little difficulty. Loki could only assume it was a bag of some sort.

He continued to watch her attentively until her shape gradually grew and clarified. It took the god of mischief a further second to realise that she was approaching him.

The new-found proximity confirmed for the trickster god that the stranger was, in fact, the woman who had visited him in his prison. Though this time, she was dressed differently, her attire now consisting of a white shirt, leather breastplate with scale-like embellishments, bracers to match, brown trousers and brown leather boots. She still wore the circlet, but had seen fit to secure her jet tresses in long plaited ponytail. Her attire was completed by a thick mud-coloured, hooded cloak and the addition of a short sword sheathed at her belt.

She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Loki narrowed his eyes at her, but found himself too weak to protest further.

_What are you doing? _The trickster god growled silently as the stranger leant gently on the hand on his shoulder and then stood on her tiptoes to reach around to the back of his head.

The woman gave a smile in response and then took a breath.

"I'm sure you don't want to be stuck like this the entire time…" She replied, utilising the more conventional means of conversation. After a second, she gave a sigh in defeat and place her feet flat on the ground.

"I'm going to have to ask you to kneel again…"

Loki seethed at this request. Who was this stranger to ask him, a prince - no - a king, the rightful king of Asgaard, to kneel before her? She was a peasant. An asgaardian, for certain, but a peasant. Not royalty. Not nobility. A guard at the very most, but certainly no one with the authority to command him so.

The woman's smile faded as she, no doubt, read his thought process. She looked uncertain for a second, a trifle doubtful at his hesitance. With a sigh, she turned away from him and began to walk away. Her pace was slow and thoughtful.

"I'd rather have you able to talk, Loki…" She called back over her shoulder. "…But if you wish, then you can keep your restraints."

The trickster god weighed up the options for a further second.

_Wait…_ He projected, resignedly, dropping to his knees a second time. Relief overcame him as the woman pivoted and approached again, moving to stand behind him.

Loki felt a light tug at the device strapped to his jaw and then the muzzle loosed itself and fell to the snow between his kneecaps.

Subconsciously, Loki tested his aching jaw, opening and closing it with little difficulty. It struck him as strange that the muscles did not resist more so after what felt like an eternity of disuse.

The stranger smiled to him as she crouched in front of him, turning her attention to the cuffs around his wrists which had been resting in his lap. Loki watched her attentively, wondering how she could have the means to release him. Had she a key?

He lost sight of her hands for a second as she leant forwards in concentration. He could only watch the top of her head, before she leant away from him and stood, a smug smile set on her lips.

The woman stepped away from him, allowing Loki enough room to stand. She placed her hands on her hips and seemed to be admiring her handiwork.

The trickster god stood, shakily, allowing the chains to fall to the ground aside the piece of metal that had stayed his tongue. For a long while he stared at his discarded restraints, before his concentration was broken by a voice.

"Did you know that on Midgaard they used a similar device to silence women who nagged their husbands in the medieval era?"

Loki looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in puzzlement, but the woman's gaze was on the pile of metal at his feet, oblivious of his attention to her.

"Thank you." He offered weakly, knowing that he was grateful to this stranger for freeing him, uncertain of her purpose though he was.

She gave a slight nod and turned on her heel to walk away.

Loki took a few steps after her, "Wait." he called.

She turned to him inquisitively.

The trickster god gestured to the bindings, now a few steps behind him.

"Aren't you going to take those with you?"

The woman's brow furrowed, "Why would I do that?"

"Are you not my guard? What if you should need to bind me again?"

The woman smiled as if she had just been asked an idiotic question by a child, but was thinking on an answer that would not hurt the child's feelings.

"Hopefully, I won't need to…But if I should, I would have no need for them." She replied, finally, turning away from him again.

"Now, come on." She called back, "It'll be dark soon and this place is hard enough to navigate when it's light out."

Loki followed after her, his mind heavy with supposition. He wondered how strong this woman really was. He wondered how strong he was without his magic. He wondered on the woman's purpose. He even wondered whether she was even a guard.

Minutes passed in silence.

The minutes became hours.

Loki had lost track of how long they had been walking by the time the sky grew dark and they came upon a forest of skeletal trees stripped bare by the winter.

The stranger led him to a tiny clearing sheltered by a bank of earth. A makeshift canopy of the dirt encrusted roots of a large fallen tree, protruded from the embankment.

The woman moved to stand in the centre of the clearing, dropping the bag on her shoulder to the floor.

"We shall camp here tonight and push on to better shelter in the morning."

"Better shelter?" Loki piped up without thinking, viewing the area with disdain, "Whatever could be better than this?" He asked, the words dripping with sarcasm as he threw his hands out to his sides theatrically.

The stranger turned to him, her face the epitome of childish glee.

"Brilliant! Just brilliant!"

Loki felt his brow knit together in confusion. The woman continued, sensing that elaboration was in order.

"I'm glad you're beginning to feel more like yourself, Loki. People kept telling me that you were the talkative sort and I was beginning to think they were wrong…This makes things a whole lot easier."

Loki was about to question her further when she began to speak again.

"We need to get a fire going, otherwise we are going to freeze to death…"

In the process of talking, the woman's eyes had somehow found the sky and she stood for a further moment, looking upwards, arms folded, before turning towards Loki and locking eyes with him.

"You have a choice; you can help me gather kindling and fuel for the fire or you can wait here and I'll go by myself."

Loki scoffed. The woman looked bemused for a moment.

"You are not much of a guard, are you?" The trickster god tested, watching as the woman's head lilted slightly to the side in inquiry.

"You are truly permitting me to leave your sight if I so wish?"

The woman gave a nod and a shrug of her shoulders. There was no smile present on her face, but she did not seem angry or offended. In fact, she didn't appear to be feeling anything. With a sinking feeling, Loki realised he had seen that look before; It was the passive, impartial expression she had employed on their last meeting.

"What would you do, Loki? Would you run from me? Try to escape?" Came the woman's reply after a short while.

"If that is what you were thinking, then I would advise strongly against it; without me you are alone on a strange world, stripped of your magic. You have no idea what lurks in the wilderness around here, nor do you understand the people or customs should you happen upon any civilisation. Nor, I should think, do you speak their language."

She paused for a moment, taking a breath, before locking eyes with the god of mischief, "If you wish to run, Loki, then do so…But, heed my warning that you would be better off sticking with me. Oh, and, strictly speaking, you are not my prisoner and I am not your guard."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "Oh? What are you then?"

A smile tugged at the strange woman's lips as she pondered this for a second or two.

"I suppose I am here to protect you, that much is true…But, if I had to find a name for it, I would say I was your guide."

"My guide?" The trickster god repeated, receiving only a nod for his troubles.

"And your name?" He ventured, eyes narrowed slightly in scrutiny of his 'guide'.

"Synneva."

The reply was flat and informative, nothing more. However, Loki could not help but feel there was something more to the woman. The name seemed familiar to him, but he could not recall ever having met her before her visit to his cage. Did she occupy a position at the palace? A healer perhaps? That would certainly explain her command of magic.

A bitter wind swept through the clearing, causing both Synneva and Loki to shiver.

"Kindling." The woman commanded finally, drawing the cloak she wore tighter around her frame.

* * *

**_Chapter Six; How exciting? Hope you're liking this so far, as I said got some good ideas for this one and it is soooooo much fun to write. _**

**_Reviews, story alerts and favourites are always appreciated. Come on, Help me prove Loki is better than Thor. ;)_**


	8. Instinct

_Thor and The Avengers remain the property of people other than myself. And I think for the safety and comfort of the actors involved, I should never be allowed to own them either…_

_**Right, Ok...so this is the next chapter to Light Bringer...Not sure what happened with this one. Don't think I had a lot of control on how it was written; it kinda decided it was going to write itself. Had a few hiccups with it - that is why it took so long - but I think it is ok now. Please enjoy.**  
_

* * *

**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Seven: Instinct.**

Loki's contribution to the campfire paled in comparison to Synneva's. The god of mischief had managed a couple of handfuls of kindling and a few sickly looking branches, where as, his self-proclaimed guide had not only sourced triple the amount of firewood, but had also managed to track and trap their evening meal.

For some reason, Loki had expected her to gloat or tease him about his haul. Instead, Synneva had thanked him for his efforts and set to work on the fire with no further word on the matter.

Once the fire had been lit, Synneva had tossed Loki a blanket from the bag and plucked the dagger from her boot, skinning her kill with ease and dexterity.

The trickster god spread the blanket on the ground and seated himself at the opposite side of the campfire to the woman. He watched her from across the flames, her eyes - now almost black in the firelight - never moving from the small mammal on her lap.

After a short while, Synneva stood and draped the animal's hide over one of the roots jutting from the embankment. She then knelt and proceeded to construct a rudimentary spit from the pile of branches designated as fuel for the fire.

Only when the meat was set to cooking, did she look up from her task. Synneva met Loki's eyes across the flames. He seemed to be studying her, watching her every move, searching for any idiosyncrasies in her actions, anything that he might be able to use against her.

Uneasiness threatened, but Synneva turned her thoughts to empathy, realising Loki's watchful eyes were probably more instinctive and subconscious; a defence mechanism.

Still, she thought it best to occupy his thoughts with something else for the moment.

She cleared her throat, waking the trickster god from his thoughts.

"It shouldn't take too long to cook. It's only small, but it'll do us for tonight."

The man across from her nodded to show he had understood, but allowed his eyes to narrow slightly in further scrutiny. The side of his mouth twitched as if he forbade a smile.

"How is it you come to be here, Synneva?" He asked, voice low and calm.

"What do you mean?" Came the reply.

Loki felt anger rise in him for a moment, sensing the woman was avoiding his question on purpose. He calmed himself with a breath and tried again.

"What does your loyalty to the Allfather entail that you would happily exile yourself with a war criminal? What were you? Palace guard? Healer? What?"

Synneva turned the meat on the spit, moving her eyes from Loki. She pondered her reply for a moment, reviewing the god of mischief's question and taking note of the fact he refrained from addressing Odin as his father.

Eventually, she saw fit to answer.

"Odin was good enough to have me in his employ at the palace when I had nowhere else to go…I was not a guard, per se -" Loki's brow twitched a little, but Synneva continued unabashed, " - nor was I a healer…I believe many would refer to my position as vizier."

Loki found himself satisfied by that answer since it did seem a likely position for a woman such as Synneva.

"And this assignment?" Loki queried, watching as his guide began to strip pieces of meat from the carcass above the fire and equally distribute them between two small squares of thick embroidered cotton.

She kept one for herself and handed the other to the trickster god. He did not protest the offer, finding that the day had weakened him and he was in need of sustenance. For a moment, he wondered if the meat was poisoned, but then he dispelled his stupidity with a short shake of his head. What reason would Synneva have to poison him? She had said she was here to protect him and killing him would gain her nothing that he could see.

His resolve to sample the meagre meal solidified as the woman across from him took a mouthful of her own and chewed it thoroughly.

"Why exactly are you here?" Loki pressed.

"I told you. I am here to protect you; you are vulnerable without your magic and-"

"That's not what I meant." Interrupted the trickster god, allowing his expression to darken. He expected a sigh in defeat as Synneva answered him, but instead, she fixed him with a smug smile.

"We met once before, Loki. Do you remember?" Came her response.

The god of mischief was taken aback at this woman's blatant disregard for his authority. She had said that she was not his guard and neither was Loki her prisoner and, in his mind that still placed him above her in rank, as it were. Yet, she continued to avoid answering his questions and to reply cryptically when she did.

Gritting his teeth and deciding to play along to see what she was getting at, Loki gave a slow and calculated shake of his head.

Synneva gave a nod that suggested she had thought as much and then continued.

"Well, it _was_ quite a while ago. I believe it was as the Allfather was deciding who to crown as his successor." Synneva paused for a moment, not missing the momentarily grimace cross Loki's features. "I happened upon you in the stables as I went to collect my horse. You were getting ready to go for a ride. You said you needed to clear your head. We spoke on magic for a short while, before parting ways."

Synneva was satisfied to see recognition dawn in the trickster god's eyes.

"I remember." He stated, thinking back on the conversation. He found it a pleasing memory, not anything particularly special or unique, but one that calmed him upon reminiscence.

"You're point being?" Loki ventured.

"My point is that I remember that meeting fondly. I thought well of you for it." She paused for a moment to pluck another piece of meat from her cloth. After she had chewed and swallowed, she continued.

"I spent a lot of time around the palace and I could never fathom why people regarded you with such uncertainty. I even saw it in the Allfather on occasion."

Synneva watched as Loki tensed and averted his gaze. The muscles in his jaw twitched in a way that suggested he was biting back anger.

"But after we had spoken, I was no further in determining why. Granted, I could sense something different in you, but nothing that I felt would warrant fear. You had always seemed kindly to me, and despite your penchant for trickery, I always thought you less cruel than your brother…"

Loki turned narrowed, searching eyes on her and silence overcame the pair for a moment.

"I suppose I just found it hard to believe you had done such terrible things." Synneva concluded finally, staring intently at the florid tendrils before her.

Loki scoffed, "You are basing your entire opinion of me on one conversation I can barely remember having?"

"No Loki…On my years of service in your presence."

The trickster god's expression darkened.

"You are ignorant. You watched, but that was all. You supposed and surmised, but you cannot know all merely by observation."

Synneva gave a slow, calculated nod. "That is why I spoke with you in the stables, Loki. That is why I visited you in your incarceration. That is why I am speaking with you now."

The god of mischief gave a malicious smile that Synneva decided she cared little for.

"And what are your findings?" He asked in mock nonchalance.

Synneva cleared her throat and took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"I can empathise with you…I do not condone your actions, but I can perhaps see why they came to be."

"Perhaps?" Loki picked up, cocking a condescending eyebrow, "You do not sound so certain."

Synneva turned her gaze from the fire and fixed the god of mischief with sympathetic eyes.

"The Allfather told me of your true parentage and also of how you learned of it. I can see how that could have affected you…" She let her voice trail off, watching the prince across from her attentively.

"First, you had to come to terms with the fact you were rejected by your own kind…"

The trickster god's gaze found the base of the campfire and remained steadfast.

"Then you had to come to terms with your own hatred taught to you of the Jotun. And finally, to have to assess everything the Allfather and Frigga ever told you and to find out they had been lying to you all along…"

Synneva thought she saw sadness in Loki's eyes, but she could not be sure it was not just a trick of the firelight.

When the trickster god remained silent, Synneva continued.

"I can relate, you know."

Loki looked up, enquiring eyes meeting the woman's across from him. His expression still, but volatile.

Synneva took a breath, casting her gaze downwards momentarily in reminiscence.

"I was rejected by my true family as well. Cast aside because I did not appeal to them, because I was not what they had hoped I'd be."

The god of mischief gave a nod as if he had understood and accepted Synneva's argument for her empathy.

"I see." He began slowly, "And I suppose you were adopted into another family?"

Loki watched as the woman gave a nod.

"You had siblings in this home?"

Another nod.

"And your adopted parents loved you all equally, despite the fact that _you_ were not of their blood?"

A further nod.

"Are you a monster, Synneva?"

The woman across from him gave a defeated shake of her head, knowing that she had lost the battle.

Loki's lips thinned to a triumphant smile.

"Then you are still ignorant." The trickster god hissed, "Do not claim to be like me. You were never lied to as I was. You were never cast in the shadow of your siblings and _never _were you made to believe you were equal to them only to be swept aside at every opportunity. Your father did not steal you away in the hope that you, someday, might become useful to him and your brother did not toss you into an abyss when you tried to prove yourself worthy."

Synneva shook her head imploringly, "Loki, this is-"

"Madness?" Interrupted the trickster god, eyes wild with fury. He stood, hastily casting the cloth on his lap into the fire as he did so.

Synneva rose to meet his gaze.

"No, Loki. That's not what I was going to say." Subconsciously, she raised her hands in surrender.

"But you think me mad." Came the response, venom in each syllable.

Synneva shook her head and rounded the fire slowly, approaching the trickster god with caution.

"Listen to me…" She coaxed.

Synneva's eyes widened as Loki lunged forth, taking her shoulders in a grip that might have been vice-like were it not for the fallen prince's condition. She gasped as her back slammed against a tree trunk, but she did not fail to meet and hold Loki's gaze as he leaned towards her.

"You are nothing like me." He hissed.

Synneva tensed her muscles slightly, realising that she could escape Loki's grasp if she so wished.

"Loki, release me. I do not want to have to hurt you, but I will."

The god of mischief bristled as Synneva's face deadpanned. She did not fear him. She had no reason to. He was weakened. Vulnerable without his magic.

Synneva felt Loki's grip on her loosen, but she did not struggle free, choosing instead to watch for the trickster god's actions first.

Loki turned his gaze away and released Synneva completely. He turned his back on her, for a moment, before pivoting and striding past her into the depths of the forest.

Synneva stared after the fallen prince resignedly, wondering if she had been ill chosen for this task.

With a sigh, she turned back to the fire, dismantled the spit, carved up what was left of the meat and discarded the useless carcass. Stowing the leftover flesh and the animal hide in her duffle bag, she readied a makeshift bed in the shelter of the embankment and settled into a light sleep.

Synneva did not dampen the fire, sure that Loki would, eventually, realise that it was foolish for him to be alone in this wilderness and that he would try make his way back as soon as he did.

She was also sure that she would be able to hear him should anything unfortunate befall the trickster god.

Or at least, she hoped…on both accounts.

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**_There you go. I hope you like it. I did spend most of yesterday writing out ideas for this fic. and so I think this will help with the speed of updates, but I cant promise. Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed or added me and/or this fic to your lists (you are helping me disprove my friend's opinion that Thor is better than Loki). I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope to update soon. _**


	9. The UnOwned

_Thor and The Avengers remain the property of other people. No copyright infringement is intended._

_**Hi guys! Sorry for the length between updates. I must admit I struggled a little with this one and I'm not sure it is exactly what I wanted to write, but hey any update is better than none at all, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter...**  
_

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Eight: The Un-Owned.**

Loki knew, even with his first step out of the clearing, that he would return to Synneva. After all, what choice did he have? He could not even be certain which realm it was that he had been banished to; he had seen nothing save for frozen wasteland and forests of trees ravaged by the inhospitable climate.

There had been no sign of life, so far. That was, unless Loki counted the creature that had hovered on the spit above the campfire. Though, even then, the trickster god had been unable to give the thing a name.

The trees became sparser around him as Loki wandered and before long, he found himself at the edge of the forest. A grimace found his countenance as he stared out across the anaemic tundra. There was nothing; no discernable landmarks, no buildings.

He squinted into the cornflower blue horizon in search of any pinpricks of light that would be evidence of civilisation, but to his dismay he found none.

The trickster god stepped backwards, resting a moment in thought, his back against the nearest tree trunk. A bitter ache crept through the leather at his back and paid the cloth beneath it no heed, but Loki barely felt it. He pushed away from the tree and twisted, noting that the trunk was ensconced by the same arctic shroud as the rest of his surroundings.

Loki's gaze turned skywards, eyes flitting between the constellations. With a heavy heart he found them too foreign to him.

Finally, he realised where the answers would lie and he resolved to seek them out.

Not at that moment, however.

No, he would wait until daybreak - whenever that was - and then he would find his way back to Synneva and demand that she answer him.

But for now, he would wait. Keep his eyes on the landscape. Watch for movement. Take her certainty from her. Make her panic. Make her suffer.

Perhaps he should wait longer. Make her search for him. Hide away and convince her she had lost him. Make her believe he had been taken; captured or devoured by whatever it was that called this place home. She would fret, feel guilty, know that the Allfather's wrath would be the only prize for her complacence.

A smile of pure spite ghosted across the trickster god's lips.

It was true, he was without his magic but, he was not without his pride and he would not submit as easily as he suspected Synneva hoped.

* * *

Synneva's eyes flicked upwards as something cast a shadow in front of her. She stood from her kneeling position beside the remains of the campfire and treated the fallen prince's vague, sun-obscured form with a warm smile.

"Calmed down a little bit, have we?" She asked, receiving only a wry smile in response.

"Well, I hope you got some sleep; we've got a long walk ahead of us."

The woman turned her gaze away from Loki and stooped for the blanket she had tossed him the night before. She crammed it into the duffel bag and kicked ice-stricken earth over some particularly resilient embers, before hoisting the bag over her shoulder and striding past Loki with a gesture that suggested he follow.

Narrowed emerald orbs found the back of Synneva's head. The trickster god made no effort to move and, after a second, Synneva seemed to notice he was not following.

She pivoted, eyebrows knitting together in semi-concerned scrutiny.

"Is anything the matter, Loki?"

The god of mischief folded his arms across his chest, averting his gaze from Synneva.

"As a matter of fact…" He began, affecting nonchalance. "I was just wondering where exactly we were walking to…"

Synneva crooked a smile and blinked slowly, seemingly deliberating on how to answer.

In the end, she gave a shrug of her shoulders.

"I know of a village. It's quite a way away yet, which is why we really must be going if we're going make it there before night fall." She finished with a coaxing nod and made to turn her back on Loki again.

"Does this village have a name?" Loki pressed, dropping his chin to his chest and regarding Synneva from the tops of narrowed green eyes.

His guide responded with an approving nod and she looked him up and down before answering.

"I suppose you do have a right to know where we are going…" Synneva offered, finally.

"I'm sure the village does have a name, but I don't know it."

Loki's face twisted into a sneer.

"How can you be my guide if you do not know where you are going?" The trickster god spat with venom, earning himself raised eyebrows from Synneva.

"I never said that I didn't know where we were going, I just said I did not know the name of the place." Her tone was soft and gently chiding. Loki found he did not care for it.

"And how is that?"

He watched as Synneva heaved a sigh and shook her head.

"I have been here before, Loki. I spent a long time here, in fact…And last time I was here, I was fortunate enough to meet some of the inhabitants of this realm. I know where their village is and I know that they will afford us shelter and food. However, they neglected to mention a name for their settlement; I didn't think it was imperative that I know at the time so I left it at that."

Loki felt himself disheartened at Synneva's answer. He wondered if she was toying with him, deliberately keeping him disorientated by not telling him where they were.

He tried again, "And which realm _is_ this, exactly?"

Synneva gave Loki a smile that told him he already knew the answer to his question. It took the fallen prince less than a second to grasp the meaning behind the expression.

"The realm does not even have a name?"

"Correct." Synneva granted with a small nod. "It was by accident that we found this place."

"We?" Loki queried.

"Heimdall and I. It was a small miscalculation with the Bifrost…I believe I was aiming for Niffelheim, if I remember correctly."

Synneva turned her gaze skywards and Loki was unsure whether this was a gesture in remembrance or whether his guide was checking for the time of day. He did not really care, either way. He was resolved to move not an inch until all his questions had been answered.

The god of mischief's brow twisted in curiosity.

"So you were the first Asgaardian to set foot on this world?"

Synneva turned her gaze from the heavens at this question and gave a tentative nod, wondering what it was that Loki was getting at.

"Possibly the first of any race to know of this realm, aside from the inhabitants?""Most probably, yes…What is your point, Loki?"The trickster god's brow relaxed and he gave a short laugh that suggested that the answer should have been obvious. He savoured Synneva's bemused expression for a long while, suddenly grateful to her that, for once she had elected to stay out of his head and not search for this conclusion by that means.

"Then why did _you_ not give it a name?" Synneva gave a shake of her head in disappointment. She then heaved a sigh and shifted the weight of her bag slightly on her shoulder. Loki watched as she half-turned away from him.

"Because it is not mine to name."

With this, Synneva turned her back on the trickster god, fully, and began to walk away from him.

"Now come on; We've a lot of ground to cover. Unless you'd rather stay here, of course." The guide called back over her shoulder.

Loki took a breath and stared after the woman. He half-expected her to turn back and wait for him to follow. When she did not, however, the god of mischief surveyed the clearing briefly and found himself falling into step behind Synneva, ashamedly tempted by the promise of shelter.

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**_I hope people are not disappointed by this chapter and my explanation of the realm. I did do some research into the nine realms of Norse lore, but I didn't see one that I could use for this fic. I had already developed ideas of the inhabitants and none of the existing realms seemingly leant themselves to such ideas so I made up my own realm! I hope anyone who is still reading can appreciate what I was trying to do. Next chapter we shall meet the inhabitants of this unnamed world and you shall, hopefully be able to ascertain what I was going for._**

**_Thanks for reading anyways. Hope you liked it just fine. _**

**_~~~Vi~~~_**


	10. Best Laid Plans

_Thor and The Avengers (and subsequently any characters from either fandom that I may use or mention in this fic) do not belong to me. Writing about them merely allows me to indulge in some much-needed escapism from the real world._

_**Thanks to all of you guys who are reading this at the moment (especially Cat-Natty for continued support for both this fic. and Rain Maker, Thanks a bunch; really appreciate it!) I love reading reviews and seeing favourites and follows pop up on my phone; gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.**_

_**Also, will just let you know about the new poll on my profile. It's Light Bringer related so if you are reading this then please spare a moment to vote. I have some ideas for this fic. but have not yet decided whether Loki and Synneva are going to become romantically involved or not. What do you think should happen? Head on over to my profile now to have your say and maybe your vote will influence what happens in later chapters!**_

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Nine: Best Laid Plans.**

Synneva had promised food and shelter from the inhabitants of the as-of-yet unnamed village, but what the pair had, in fact, received were raised voices and weapons pointed towards them in pure and unadulterated hostility.

Loki remained silent, certain that he could offer nothing in the way of mediation. The spear and sword bearers spoke in a language that the trickster god did not recognise and, silver tongued though he was, he doubted he would make even the slightest difference if he did interject.

_After all… _He found himself thinking, _It was Synneva's decision to come here and the blame for any harm that should befall us, surely rests on her shoulders. _

Loki shot his guide a sideways glance, employing raised eyebrows in an attempt to coax her on. Synneva merely shook her head and turned her attention to the guards who had halted them at the village's makeshift gate.

The god of mischief found himself surprised at the fluency of Synneva's attempt at the foreign language, even though he knew he should not have been at all. She had warned him not to go off by himself when they had first arrived, since he did not know the common tongue; the implication then being that Synneva knew it and could act as translator should the need arise.

Loki watched the exchange with nonchalance. Had he been in a better mood, he may have tried to pick up on a few words and guess their meaning, but he had no patience for such a task. Instead, he shifted his focus to the speakers themselves, trying to glean as much as he could of their appearance from the light of the torches a few of the group held.

The torchlight flickered and scattered light unhelpfully about the faces of the men. Instinctively, Loki called their skin tone gold, but this could easily have been a mere touch of firelight on a pallid complexion. He could however, make out a slight sheen to the flesh, a subtle shimmer that reminded the fallen prince of the walls of the palace back on Asgaard.

Loki fought back a grimace - unsure as to how the slightest facial expression would be interpreted - and chased the thoughts away with the sudden shift of his gaze to the hair of this strange people.

Of the group, three had shoulder length hair and two had shorter hair. One, a particularly thickset gentleman who proudly brandished a great sword, had apparently seen fit to shave his head, leaving him bald.

Loki could just about make out a few different shades in the dim light, but there appeared to be one unanimous trait amongst them all; each man had a distinct curl to his locks.

Loki's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Synneva brushed past him, grazing his elbow gently. He looked to her, hoping to discern the meaning behind the gesture and he recognised, when she made no effort to turn to him, that this had been merely to gain his attention.

Following suit, Loki returned his gaze forwards and shifted slightly as a trio of guards broke form and rounded the pair to flank them. The trickster god did not have to turn to know they had weapons trained on them.

_Thank you, Loki. _Came Synneva's voice inside the trickster god's mind.

_For what?_ He replied, falling into step beside his guide as they were escorted through the gateway.

_For trusting me._

Loki almost scoffed, before he remembered the situation and concentrated on maintaining as blank an expression as possible.

_I didn't trust you; I merely figured that I would be able to help little and, besides, if anything happened the blame would rest solely with you._

The god of mischief though he heard Synneva sigh and imagined her rolling her eyes, but he had been watching her through his peripherals and had not seen her move a muscle.

Synneva said nothing more and Loki would have been glad to leave it that way, but he found himself wondering more and more about the situation at hand.

_What did you say to them? _He queried, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. _And where are they taking us?_

His guide waited a few seconds before replying. _Well, I told them who I was, that I was in need of food and shelter, that I knew the village's chief and that I have bought an offering in the name of peace. _

Loki turned his head slightly, eyes narrowed in silent interrogation. Synneva moved a hand backwards deftly and gestured to the duffle bag that still hung over her shoulder. The trickster god was still bemused, having yet to behold the entire contents of the bag, but thought this a somewhat satisfying answer.

_And I hope they are taking us for an audience with the chief. _Synneva finished, finally.

The pair followed the guards in silence and were led through the village which was mostly comprised of angular one-story buildings. They were little more than silhouettes or shadows in the lack of luminosity, but Loki assumed they were made out of wood.

Eventually the group halted before a larger building, raised about two feet or so off the ground. One of the guards broke away, ascended the steps leading to the entrance and disappeared inside.

It seemed as if they had been halted outside for nearly an hour by the time the guard re-emerged and beckoned them enter. Loki was glad to see the guards around them disperse as Synneva climbed the steps with a slightly quickened pace. A sudden ragged breath from her confirmed for Loki that she had been shivering. He told himself she was trembling because she was cold and that this action had nothing to do with nervousness at the events yet to come.

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**_Again that one sort of got away from me. Next chapter should be fun to write so shouldn't take too long. You may even get to finally find out what is in Synneva's bag! Don't get too excited, though..._**

**_Anyway, don't forget to vote in the poll on my profile._**

**_~~~Vi~~~_**


	11. Sheltered Seclusion

_Surprise, surprise! Thor and The Avengers are still owned by other people. That includes any characters that I use or mention from those two fandoms, as well. The plot and are mine though, so please no touchy unless permitted, Savvy?_

_**Yes, I know this has been a very very long time coming and for that I apologise. I also apologise since this is not the best thing I have ever written, but I think it serves it's purpose. Anyway, hope you like it. **_

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**Light Bringer.**

**Chapter Ten: Sheltered Seclusion.**

Synneva allowed herself a moment to savour the sudden warmth as they were granted access to the building. The guards had left Loki and herself alone and this allowed Synneva to hesitate by the pit of fire in the centre of the room in a pantomime of mock disorientation.

In truth, she knew exactly where she was supposed to be going; the chief would be waiting for them, seated on his throne to the left end of the longhouse. Synneva hesitated a further moment, waiting for Loki to come aside her. She caught a flash of movement in her peripherals as the trickster god shot her a sideways glance. Ignoring the itch of his gaze on her, Synneva took a silent breath and pivoted to her left, all at once missing the warmth of the fire.

Loki followed his guide to the end of the building and stopped before a platform which had been erected beneath an ornate alcove. The light levels in this area were much improved. So much so that Loki had no trouble picking out the intricate carvings on the alcove and platform both. Minute mouse-like creatures were suspended mid-climb along beams carved to look like tree branches. These creatures frozen in the midst of hunting tiny winged insects who seemed only to have clung to the bark for a moment's respite. The rodents, in turn, were pursued by larger, feline creatures who ran from those that may have been wolves.

The trickster god completed his survey of the alcove at the platform and the seated chieftain. The man himself reclined on a throne carved with care even greater than that displayed around him. His throne could have been taken from the forests themselves, so lifelike was its depiction.

A moss covered trunk reached for the ceiling. A bare foot above the head of the ruler, the tree split into branches and an explosion of wooden leaves, each one delicately and painstakingly painted. Once again, timber mice and insects traversed the wood grain. Looking closer into the leaves above, Loki could make out the carvings of birds perched on the branches and even a nest, complete with the depiction of hungry fledglings. The trunk itself housed the ruler of this strange people; a wide wound in the wood afforded space enough for the man to sit comfortably.

To each side of the chief's throne sat two others, though these were not nearly so grand. Each throne was timber borne, but were as typical thrones. The ones immediately to either side of the centremost were bedecked in a myriad of different species of flower and blossom, painted in pinks, blues and purples. Atop the right hand seat was perched a bird that put Loki in mind of a peahen, but smaller. The bird had been carved with wings spread wide and chest puffed out in nothing short of pride. Inwardly, Loki wondered if the carving was supposed to represent the owner of the throne. He had to searched a little harder for the creature on the throne immediately to the left of the chief. This one was a stoat-like animal, crouching at the feet of whosoever would sit there, inquisitive, spritely, cunning.

The other two thrones were decidedly non-descript compared to the others. To Loki it seemed as if they were incomplete in their construction and he found himself wondering who might sit at them.

The chief himself seemed elderly, his skin a dull tan and lacking the sheen Loki had beheld on the guards who had escorted the trickster god and his guide. Long silvery blonde hair that would have been a mane were it not for the fact it had been plaited, snaked over the chieftain's left shoulder.

For a moment, Loki found himself wondering if the man was alive at all since he had yet to move a muscle in his presence. Then, just as the thought crossed the trickster god's mind, the chief raised a hand, scraping it across a bare chin in a gesture Loki took to be thoughtful. He beheld them each in turn with eyes of almost an ochre hue before he spoke.

The words were war-worn and age-weary and Loki did not understand them. He opened his mind, searching for interpretation, but found none. Synneva had yet to turn her gaze from the chief and Loki found there was little else to do, but remain silent and attempt to suppress the anger and fatigue that had suddenly overcome him.

Loki's attention lilted, drifting between the study of the alcove more so and the half-hearted search of Synneva's face through his peripherals as she and the chief continued their ambiguous exchange.

There was sudden movement to his right and Loki turned his gaze to Synneva fully as she approached the clan leader dutifully, sliding the bag from her shoulder as she did so.

Another exchange followed as his guide opened the bag to reveal a multitude of items that were as mysterious to Loki as the language of this strange golden people. Attentively, the trickster god watched as Synneva slid a pair of silk scarves from the carrier and handed them to the chief. He seemed nonchalant at this offering and handed the scarves back to Synneva, who proceeded to drape one on each of thrones either side of the chief. She then delved back into the bag, removing a series of brightly coloured boxes and strangely shaped packets that crinkled like fallen leaves underfoot. There was also an unusual shaped flagon or two, filled with a blue liquid that Loki was sure could not be naturally occurring.

The god of mischief found his concentration waning and did not return his attention to the platform until he felt eyes upon him. Subconsciously, Loki met the chieftain's gaze, reading what he could from his countenance. He seemed dubious, mistrustful even, thick silver eyebrows knitted together in a searching frown. Loki felt his eyes narrowing subconsciously, he opened his mouth to speak, but the chief's scrutiny was ended at an offering from Synneva. Her tone appeared desperate to Loki, almost as if she was at her wit's end. There was a protective element there too and she straightened a little as the clan leader returned his focus to her.

The old man gave a single permitting nod at which Loki was sure he beheld Synneva give a sigh of relief.

The god of mischief watched as his guide offered some words that sounded grateful and gathered up the now much deflated duffel bag.

The chief raised his voice and called something that must have been a name since the cry was immediately succeeded by the arrival of one of the guards from earlier.

Loki followed Synneva's lead and bent at the waist in a reverent gesture as the pair turned to leave. Creaking wood behind him suggested to Loki that the chief was also leaving the longhouse, but he did not make an effort to investigate.

Instead, the trickster god fell into step behind Synneva as they were led through the mass of dwellings. They stopped before a round building of a considerably modest size and Loki regarded it with resigned disdain. The building looked barely able to withstand a summer breeze, let alone the blizzards this place looked to suffer. However, the trickster God reasoned, at least it was shelter.

Synneva offered a grateful farewell to their escort and then proceeded to part the thick cloth that hung over the doorway of the hut and stepped inside. Loki lingered a moment, noting that the guard seemed reluctant to leave completely. He moved away a little, feigning that he was cold and went to stand beneath a torch jutting from the side of another building. However, his eyes never moved from the trickster god and Loki found himself holding the golden man's gaze as he followed Synneva into the wanting hovel.

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**_There you have it, I know it's not great , but anything is better than nothing right? I do have the next chapter planned out in my head so hopefully it won't take too long to pen and upload. Anyway, good night all, Have uni in the morn and I must rest..._**


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